


The Great Alchemist Bake Off

by BacchanaliaOfTheRedWolf



Series: Tales of Sentria [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, F/F, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Lactation, Monstergirls, Multi, Plantgirl, Potions, Rough Sex, Rubberdoll TF, Transformation, Werewolf Sex, forced transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 12:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21118937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BacchanaliaOfTheRedWolf/pseuds/BacchanaliaOfTheRedWolf
Summary: Elia enters perhaps the most dangerous bake off in Sentria, where the ingredients are potions





	The Great Alchemist Bake Off

“Well, if you'll just sign here, we'll bring your luggage to your assigned room, give you the key, and the preparation phase begins tomorrow!” Elia nodded, and perused the document once more. As an alchemist, she knew that her profession was responsible, and... She blinked. And put her finger down on the paper with an incredulous look.

“Er... What is _this_ clause, exactly?” The secretary clearly knew what clause she was talking about, because she grinned.

“First time at the Bake Off?” Elia nodded. She'd only been an accredited alchemist for a few years now, so this... This was new. And worrying. “Well, the Bake Off is a _very_ competitive event, and, since we couldn't actually _afford _enough tasters” She leaned forward and whispered into her hand “Or even get enough tasters to _agree_ to a dangerous assignment like testing alchemical cookies in a profession, that, let's be real here, has more than its fair share of drama...” She shrugged “...We covered our asses by adding this clause, where, if you do enter, you agree and consent to the possibility of transformations, mind control, the possibility of being hit with an uncontrollable lust that leads to being gangbanged, permanent submissive or dominant behaviour, and any or all possible effects of alchemical baked goods that may or may not be present in your assigned dish for the day.” She winked, as Elia's eyes widened with each item on the list “This is also why other contestants are the judges, and their baked goods are assigned randomly. Less chance for inter-alchemist rivalries to play out. Not _none_... Just less.” Elia's eyes were like saucers now. “So... Still wanna take part?”

Elia gulped. The Bake Off was, for the winners, a big boost to their reputation. But she now realised why she hadn't heard much about the _losers_. She took a deep breath. “How... How long do I have to think about this?” The secretary nodded understandingly, and thought for a moment.

“Weeeeelll... About fifteen minutes. Registrations close at the seventh toll of the bell, and my time sense is usually spot on there. Better make it ten, just to play it sa-” Elia picked up the quill and scribbled her name. The secretary's eyes widened a little. “That quick, huh?” Elia nodded, unable to speak, and bright red. Inwardly, she was cursing her impulsiveness, but... She _really_ needed that boost. She was living in the middle of nowhere, and, unless custom could be brought in from afar, she wasn't going to be doing more than humdrum business. Besides... If it let her go hog wild, then she could get even _more_ reputation along the way. The secretary nodded at her, and she nodded back. “Good luck!”

She smiled, warmly “Thank you. I think I'll need it!”

**First Round (40 remain)**

Elia sweated, and it wasn't just from seeing the other contestants. They'd been given an hour, no more, no less, to prepare their concoction, put it into some kind of baked good, somehow, and present it, and that... That was a _tight_ timeline. Nobody would be _disqualified_ for not completing, but they would be marked down for having to take extra time, delaying the entertainment.

And the crowd. She knew there would be a crowd, but this wasn't so much a crowd as a _throng_, a great heaving mass of people, cheering and crowing and making all sorts of hullabaloo. The elven alchemists, with their sharper hearing, had been wincing the whole time, even with earplugs, and Elia had to admit, it had been painfully distracting to her as well. She was, however, smiling at the fact the table was her height, as were the other contestants, taller or shorter. As a halfling, she wasn't particularly used to that, and she appreciated the consideration.

_Still_, she thought to herself, _39 other contestants. And no guarantee that more than 6 will be ruled out. _She'd made sure to read the rules in her room the previous night. 6 of the contestants would be sent home in each round, with any others due to... mishaps, judged on whether they were drastic enough to merit that. In the final round, only the three highest scoring would take home their prize. Although, if it was a particularly vicious contest... She stowed that thought away, determined to look on the bright side.

The announcer, an Orcish bard dressed in a puffy blue and yellow striped shirt, raised his hand, and the crowd silenced. “Friends, the contestants have created their delicious confections, but, before the entertainment of the testing begins, and our judges” he gestured to a stand nearby, where five elder alchemists sat “Will judge, not just the reactions of our tasters through telepathy, but the alchemical effects of the concoctions...” The judges tipped their heads, and Elia could see more than one face in the contestant line sweating “...We're going to have some words from noted Alchemist, sexologist, friend to monsterfolk and humanoid alike, Alchemist Shira!” The crowd went wild, and Elia groaned. She'd heard of Shira, and her constant grandstanding, and she was not looking forward to this.

Alchemist Shira stepped up to the podium, a matronly human woman, with half moon spectacles, a billowing skirt, a striped vest, and auburn curls straining under a bright headscarf, smiled benignly at the crowd. “I'll keep this short, darlings, but it's _so_ lovely to see you all here today, to see the best and brightest upcoming alchemists in the realm do their stuff, not just in terms of potions, but in cookery too, a skill I value _most_ highly! Why, they all look _so_ delicious, but...” she wagged her finger with a wry grin “As you know, darlings, it's not all fun and games for our contestants, as elimination is as good as disqualification, and I know some of our contestants have the _filthiest_ minds!” She giggled, and the crowd roared with laughter. “Each contestant is assigned one of the other's dishes randomly, as distributed by our judges, and, before we close, I'd like to tell you all that not only will I be watching, and writing _aaaall_ the details in the Sentria Weekly this year, I'll be available for consultation in the evenings too, for those lovely darlings who want to” The crowd were clearly fans, for a shout of “ASK ALCHEMIST SHIRA” went up to her cupped ear, and she clapped her hands delightedly. “Yes, darlings, yes! Now, without further ado, let the tasting _begin_!”

Each contestant looked to their dish, steeling themselves. Elia did the same, but it only took a few deep breaths to calm herself. The first round, generally speaking, was the tame one. An appetiser, of sorts. Her own dish was a plate of chocolate cookies. Unassuming. Delicious smelling. Freshly baked. No clues. Taking another deep breath, she picked one up, eyeing the other contestants as she did. Some had already started, and one was tearing in with gusto. She nibbled, and...

_This was good_. The dough was crisp, the chocolate dark and luscious. She took a bigger bite, and nodded in approval. Regardless of the effect, this was evidently from someone who knew their stuff! Before she could help herself, she'd eaten the whole thing, and had another to her mouth. _Wow, I cou- wha?_ Feeling a wetness in her chest, she looked down...And clasped her arms to her chest in shock. _My nipples! My nipples are leaking milk!_ Blushing, feeling that dampness intensify, dribbling down her breasts and her shirt, she gasped. Would she be like this forever? Would she have to work around this? But, after a few moments, it stopped, and she took a deep breath. _Okay, fine_. _I got off light, and... Well, there's no harm in eating the whole plate._

A loud, drawn out moan to her left caught her attention mid nibble. One of the dwarven contestants had thrown off their clothes, almost ripping them in their haste, had climbed up on their table, and was masturbating fiercely. “Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Yes! Yes! Watch me! Watch me, you bastards! Watch meeeeee!” Two of the other contestants caught her as she fell off the table, still fingering herself and trying to turn toward the crowd. They laid her on the ground, but it was a good ten minutes before she cried out her final orgasm, and fell limp to the floor, breathing deeply as she fitfully slumbered. The judges conferred amongst themselves, and nodded. The eldest, a bearded orc, stood up.

“Contestant Allison Mournberg has not been given a permanent effect, and so remains in the contest. We have conferred, and contestants Leal Stormborn, Jen'a Kurnak, Murgo Brightwater, Autumn Willow, Marek Abdal, and Joseph Armstrong have not scored highly enough to continue the competition. We thank them for their contributions, and the contestant sign-up fee has been refunded.” The six, two orcs, one human, and three elves, sighed, and trudged back to the inn, presumably to pack up. She was pleased to note that one of the orcs still had slick, blue-green skin, and she smiled a little as she noted her own potion was still in effect. If she'd judged it right, it should only last until tonight, but, worst case scenario, it would be tomorrow afternoon. And, through the glum look, he _was_ licking his lips, so she was reasonably sure he was okay with losing. He would have to make a note of their name, and send them some of her brownies _without_ the active ingredient. It was only fair to, and she hoped they would enjoy them.

**Third Round (21 remain)**

Elia was sweating profusely as she stared at the almond cake in front of her. The last round had been... Well, there had been some pretty drastic disqualifications this past round. Two of them were permanent, but not... _Bad_. Lief Arronson had been turned into a highland cowgirl, and had chosen to stay at the inn for a little longer. She'd talked with her afterward, and she honestly seemed like she was pleased with the result. “Ah, the disqualification's a bugger, yes. But I _feel_ okay, I've got my faculties, and” She remembered her grin as she'd hefted her breasts with a grin, and referring to them as “lovely puppies”, and she chuckled. She'd changed her name to Leah, and everyone clapped her on the back, bought her a drink in congratulations. Elia didn't think she'd be turning back anytime soon, if ever. Pea (no last name), a human from the far south jungles, had pulled their dick out and started masturbating, but their disqualification came from the pink, sticky goo that oozed out of their dick as they came. _Bubblegum cum_... _Wonder how it tastes?_ Still, those were the lucky ones. One of the contestants eyes had glazed, before looking around, smiling at the crowd, and tentatively walked toward them, eyeing them lewdly. The judges had clearly caught on before she did, muttered “Bimbo potion” under their breath as they passed Elia, and gently ushered her away, as she blew kisses toward members of the crowd. Another's breasts had grown to a massive size, ripping their shirt. Which was a feat, considering they were a man. They were flushed as they were escorted off, and it would be of little consolation to either that the potion bakers had been disqualified by low scores.

But the worst had to have been the giantess potion. That one almost caused a riot, not least because the giantess had turned around and _demanded_ to know who had given her the indignity. She, at least, had been given an antidote straight away. Not everyone was. After all, bimbo potion was quite recognisable by its scent, and as to the submissive potion... Well, everyone knew who brewed that one, as the goblin in question was proudly holding her new pet's collar, a drooling, devoted elven boytoy.

She grimaced as she looked at her own plate. Lifting it up and taking a careful sniff, she nodded to herself. Like the last two times, scent revealed nothing. This was, usually, a good sign. Last round, well... She was grateful it was temporary. It wasn't a _lust_ potion, but it _was_... Well, she didn't know what it actually was, but she remember the feel of tentacles, full of eggs, pushing inside her pussy, her ass, her mouth, and her breasts being sucked, and feeling that even with her mouth closed, and her clothes firmly on. It was disconcerting, but worst of all, she'd felt like this was _right_, this was a _good_ life, and that she was going to feel _so happy_ when she had her lover's babies, laid them out, plop plop plop in a row, just like she had many times before... She shuddered. She didn't know how that one worked, and, to be honest, she wasn't sure she _wanted_ to.

Still... She had to taste it. So, with the knife provided, she cut herself a slice, lifted it to her mouth, and bit in. She was a little disappointed. Tastewise, it was so-so. She wondered how this contestant had gotten so far, considering this wasn't exactly inspiring her to taste more.

And then she felt a heat in her groin, and hurriedly pulled her trousers down as a thick, girthy rod, bright red in colour, stretched itself out, already leaking precum. She could feel that heat spreading, and... _Dick is for fucking with. Cum is for cumming. Got to cum. Got to fuck._ Her brain had shut down over the assault, the heat, the words, endlessly repeating in her mind. She'd pulled her trousers down, off, reflexively, and, without further ado, sought out someone to fuck. She'd picked them out, but someone else, someone smelling _so much sweeter_, so much _more willling_, that she'd pinned them down. They said words, spreading themselves, pulling her in and wrapping their thighs around her ass, but she only heard the thoughts, running through her mind. Still, it was pleasing to feel hands unbutton her shirt, play with her breasts as she humped, thrusting, feeling that heat intensify, feeling the _satisfaction_ of obeying the natural demands of her dick, the grip and squish as her partner got wetter, and stickier, and she came and came and came and came and...

She was woken up to a cold splash of water on her face. Blinking, the first thing she did was check her crotch. She blinked, and looked up at the judge. “That... That much?” He nodded, eyes wide, and pointed next to her. She looked. _Oh no._

Alchemist Shira lay, a silly smile on her face, her vest and shirt ripped through the middle, her breasts covered with bite marks, and... _That much?!?_ It was a large, white pool, and she was amazed she'd managed to take that much. Her distended stomach was clearly testament to how much they'd fucked, how much... Elia's eyes widened, and the judge laid one hand on her shoulder. “It's okay, Elia Hausen. Alchemist Shira's well armed for occasions like this, and, if I'm being honest, she was pretty eager to interpose herself between you and the other contestants.” Elia blinked, unable to really process that statement for a few moments. And then she gripped the judge's hand

“Anyone else?” The judge shook his head, and Elia let out a long, juddering breath. Well, she didn't appear to be disqualified, so... Was she? She looked up at the judge, and he shook his head, smiling. “Well... Whooo... You, er... Used to this happening?” The judge chuckled.

“One contestant was turned into a tentacle beast, two years ago, and that was... Well, we had to delay the third round a day, they other contestants were so exhausted. We managed to cure him, as we do for the ones who either want it, or don't have the _capacity_ to want it... Although, this time, Emily actually chose to go back to being a bimbo, Erieth knows why...” He cocked his head “Well, she _would_ know why, I guess...” He smiled “We only tell the contestants who have it a little rough, by the way, permanent or otherwise. After all...” He grinned “...We want to keep the reputation, strange as that may sound.”

Elia nodded. She _thought_ she understood, and the reassurance was... Well... Reassuring. Getting herself to her feet, she looked down at Shira. “Is it bad of me to say 'Couldn't happen to a better person?'” The judge laughed.

“Yes, well, I don't like her either, but it _is_ a little bad. I'll probably dock you some points for unsportsmanlike behaviour.” Elia nodded. That was fair.

She had to say it though.

**Fourth Round (12 remain)**

Elia was, on the one hand, grateful that she'd gotten this far. But she _was_ somewhat troubled by how she'd seem to change after only a brief time. At first, she'd felt for the contestants, kept their names. But last round, partly due to the shock of her own experience, partly due to... Something else, she'd not bothered to check. What mattered, right now, was the dish in front of her.

Wedding cake. She _hated_ wedding cake. She hoped the judges would take that into... No, she _didn't_. She _despised_ wedding cake. Still, she lifted the plate up to her nose, and took a sniff. _Some kind of transformation potion... What about the inside? _Prising a bit off icing off, she took a smell, and... _Oho! Somebody's quite canny! _Rummaging around in her belt, she pulled out an anti-lust potion. It wasn't against the rules, as part of the competition was whether somebody _could_ identify an ingredient. They couldn't fully counteract it though... But with plantgirl pollen? Well, it was just a good idea. Downing the potion, she grinned. This time, she wouldn't have it so bad... She was feeling ballsy, so she took a large slice, and chomped the whole thing.

Even with the plantgirl pollen, it was still wedding cake, and whatever the transformation potion was, it wasn't doing the icing any favours. She grimaced, but managed to eat the whole slice, and waited. Waited for whatever would happen. Whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than...

Her skin felt warm... Not just the warmth of a transformation, but _warm warm_. _Cozy warm_. Looking up, she smiled, and took off her shirt, testing... _Yessss, that's good. A nice sunny day, perfect for... Ohhhhh, that's what's going on!_ She grinned, looking down at her arms to confirm. Green skin? Check. A shake of the head: Hair longer? Check. Reaching back, she took a strand in her fingers, and brought it forward: Willow vines? Nice choice!

She had turned into a plantgirl. She sort of wished she had a mirror, because she was curious how she _looked_ as a plantgirl. Her perspective hadn't changed, and her breasts didn't _look_ any larger or smaller... She grinned to herself. _Well, permanent or no, I think... I think I'll play to the crowd for this one. Whoever made this deserves that much. Now who could...?_ She spotted the orc right away. He'd been eyeing her, obviously recognising his own dish, and, as her eyes met his, he gulped. She crooked a finger. His breathing was heavy even _before_ he got within range of her pollen, and she could clearly see a bulge in his trousers, straining to get out. _Something tame, at this late stage? Huh_. She smiled. “Well, big boy, you clearly approve, so, if you're a good boy and tell me if I'm disqualified right now, I'll ease that discomfort you're so clearly labouring under.” She cocked her head coquettishly, playing the role to the hilt. “Unless, of course, you don't _want_ to?” Even with her pollen, the orc muzzily shook his head before answering.

“Uhhh... I'd... Arggggh... Yeah, I kinda think I do, this is... _Really uncomfortable!_” He was already pulling down his trousers, and Elia grinned as not one girthy cock slid out of his trousers, but _four_. They weren't _long_, that was the thing. The majority of the discomfort had clearly come from four thick cocks, all pushed uncomfortably together, and he hadn't even realised it. He _clearly_ hadn't recognised it, because, looking down, he exclaimed “The hell? I hope _I'm_ not disqualified, the hell are the- ohhhhh!”

She hadn't waited for him to continue, sinking to her knees and sinking her full lips around the topmost, pushing her breasts against his thighs, and grasping two in her delicate hands, stroking them gently to his increased groans of pleasure. Slipping her mouth back, making sure to keep her lips over his dick until she slid off, she grinned up at him. “The last one you can deal with yourself.” He nodded, and reached past her cheek, as she licked the tip with relish. He clearly had endurance, because she knew her lips were, like her pollen, aphrodisiac in nature. Erieth knows how she knew how. She just did. And she used it to great effect, making sure they were rubbing against his thick shaft, noisily licking away, and, every now and again, wrapping them around his equally thick balls, making sure to look up at him with lusty, gleaming eyes.

Soon enough, his other hand reached to the back of her head, and she started adding teeth, lightly scraping along him, as he guided her back and fore, round, tilting her head gently as he thrust his hips into his hand, into _her_ hands. The crowd was cheering, and it seemed she was the center of attention. _Good_. She was going to give them quite a show... The orc, meantime, was clearly at his limit, so, with one last pop, pushing herself back against his hand to look up at him once more, she smiled. “Plantgirls like me love cum, honey... So give me all you've got, okay?” She opened her mouth, stretched out her tongue, and _flicked_ the tip of his cock. And that was all it took. It took all his strength, that orcish endurance, to keep to his feet as he shot his load, sticky whiteness covering her hair, her chin, her outstretched tongue... And her breasts were dripping. Letting him go, she stood and, ever so gently, _pushed_ his chest, and he fell on his ass, his knees trembling. “So glad doing business with you!” She stroked one breast, and made a play of licking her hand, before sashaying back to her podium to applause.

She grinned to herself as the judges pronounced their verdicts. She already knew what one of them would be. After all, he'd not only had the bad luck to be the one he'd cooked for, he'd had the bad luck to be the one _she'd_ cooked for. And, considering how much the stakes had raised, and how she was reassured that there would be nothing lasting, she'd made sure to make this one one of the permanent ones. She'd share the antidote with the judges, if they didn't know it already. It didn't matter, she'd hit the final round. Five left, and she was one of them.

**Final Round (5 remain)**

This time, Elia noted the other contestants. After all, they'd all proven themselves, she still had no idea precisely how rough they'd been during the previous rounds, and any one of them could be the one to disqualify her. The tasting hadn't begun yet, so she took stock.

Polita Evergrande, human. Tall, laconic, her ginger hair was combed neatly along one side, and her rounded spectacles only barely hid her sneer. Her clothes marked her out as a noble, and, in her mind, Elia marked her down as “Hope hers isn't mine.”

Mikah Clearwater, goblin. Pretty hot, as goblins went. Thin, he nonetheless had a firm, juicy ass, and she had to admit, she was biased _for_ him. She liked goblins. But she _knew_ he'd made at least one disqualification. He'd been boasting about the bimbo potion for the past three days.

Phedri Manaroth, succubus. She'd noted her from the first round, but she didn't _seem_ the malicious type. Of course, that meant nothing, as she could _seem_ to be anything she wanted. Right now, she seemed like a mousy woman, human in proportions, just... Naked as the sky, and a cerulean blue to match, with ram's horns of deep purple complementing her straight, hip length raven hair.

And Selia Ice, human. She looked more like a mercenary than an alchemist, with a bandolier of knives, short cropped hair, and looked like a bruiser, square jawed, and equally square of build. Elia had to admit, she found big girls like her attractive, but right now, she was competition. And she had _no_ idea about Selia.

She sighed. Nothing of any real use, then. Glumly, she stared at the last concoction. Donuts. They had various icings, various sprinkles, and, experimentally, she sniffed each. _Damn_. Nothing she could detect. Looking sidelong, she noted that everyone was picking at theirs too, sniffing them, staring at them... Nobody seemed to want to be the first. And the crowd? The crowd was deathly silent. It was unnerving, and she could see it was helping everyone else's mood about as well as it helped hers. She took a deep breath.

Hers was another “permanent” concoction. She roughly knew the limits of good sense, thanks to that brief talk with the judges, and the reaction to the giantess potion. Nothing too flashy, nothing dangerous... Embarassment, yes. Humiliation, yes. But she wasn't going to play _too_ hard. A potion mimicking the effect of a succubus mark, specifically the “cum devotion” type. That was a relatively safe one, but it was difficult to reproduce, so she was pretty confident. Well, providing she wasn't disqualified, or turned into something horny...

_Let's face it, it's going to be something horny. They're nothing if not crowd pleasers_. She took one last look at the donuts, picked one up, and took a cautious bite. “Pretty moreish, nice sprinkles, this icing is... Is it lemon? I _love_ lemon! Wait, why am I talking out loud, this much. This must be one of the effects of the... Haha, okay, I get it, funny joke, reminds me of that one time I stole my friend Tallulah's panties, they were so _nice_ to the feel, and she was so mad, that she shoved them in my mouth, and that was how I realised I loved to be gagged, and one thing led to another, and before you know i- hey, wait, this is kinda private stuff, like how I was playing for the crowd when I sucked off that orc, hehe, it was pretty funny that he got my potion and I got his, so I decided I would have a laugh... In any case, Tallulah and I, that reminds me, I... MMGLPGLGLGLG!” Her jaw had been firmly clasped from behind, and a potion, tasting a little of mint, had been poured down her throat, her head tilted back. Blinking, she felt the hand release, and turned to see the same judge who'd talked to her two nights ago. He grinned.

“Sorry about that, slight breach of the rules, but... A mix of Garrulous Gab and Truthsayer potion. And, considering you were wandering between the competition and your bondage experiences...” He stage gasped, and she giggled, then frowned again as he clapped a hand on her shoulder and looked... Very serious indeed. “You...”

“You weren't affected by a permanent potion, and therefore are not disqualified.” His serious look had turned into a sly one, and she punched him in the arm.

“Dammit, that was mean!” He grinned.

“Couldn't resist, we always find the final round tense, and... Well, I- Oh, hello!” He turned, and Elia could clearly see what had caught his attention. Not all the potions had an immediate effect, and right now...

Polita Evergrande had turned into... Well, she wasn't quite _sure_ what it was... She was translucent, and pink, like a slime, but naked, her mouth frozen into an O, her eyes crinkled in orgasmic pleasure, and her legs and arms were both spread wide. Above her, thrusting into her and panting, was a big, raven furred werewolf. Elia took a quick headcount, noting the heart and chain tattoo on Selia, and the bush of swearing hair that could only be Mikah, so... Phedri. A werewolf. He wasn't biting, thankfully, and wasn't even sure he _could_ bite, as she... _Squeaked_ under his thrusting. Indeed, the table had been knocked over, the sourbread strewn on the grass, and she could see, tilting her head in bemusement, his big, knotted dick, pumping in and out of her, tinted pink by her form. She was even speaking, although her mouth wasn't moving.

“Ahhh! Ahhh, your cock's so good, it feels so good, thrust real deep into me, kiss my nipples, lick them, grab my ass and fuck me to your heart's content!” _Kiss_... _Her nipples_? Elia was confused. Werewolves were not noted for their lip to lip abilities, and her confusion only deepened as she went on. “My ass feels so good, too, and my mouth, yes, keep fucking me there, let me lick you, taste you, feel that cum sink into me as I run my teeth along your veiny shaft, you horny bastard!” _Mouth... Ass_... He was pretty close now, and she could see his knot expanding. But her tirade never stopped. She never stopped complimenting him, begging him for sexual acts he just wasn't doing, or, indeed, was _capable_ of performing, for minutes after he had howled to the sky, jetted his semen into her (Elia was equally fascinated by how the cum lay suspended inside her, forming a perfect circle that his cock had prodded into before he pulled out), and, promptly, collapsed on top of her before reassuming her natural form, pushing herself off in confusion, then a similar confusion as she saw what Polita had become, and the cum, just... Softly laying there, inside her.

Nearby, the judge stood, eyes alight. “Haven't seen one of _those_ in a while.” Turning to him, she stared. He knew what that was? Seeing her stare, he nodded. “Well, normally, they're smaller, and not... You know, representative of a whole body. Or if they are, they're not made out of this material... Bit fragile, unless suitably reinforced. She's an onahole... A masturbation toy. And, seeing as that and the succubus mark are permanent spells, or so I'm informed...” Elia's eyes widened. She'd... She'd _won_? He smiled, and nodded. “Second place. We'll be making the official announcement in a few moments, after taking these two to be cured. So... Congratulations! Going to be coming back again?”

Elia frowned. It had been... Quite the experience, but... “Not... Not if I can help it. One reputation boost is enough, thanks.” The judge chuckled.

“Don't blame you. Never seen the point in these myself, except... Well, better to keep this sort of thing in a safe outlet, don't you think?” She nodded. It wasn't just entertainment for the masses. Quite a few of the crowd were alchemists. Some of them had pretty hot tempers. And seeing something like this... Well, for the most part, it cooled them off, knowing what could happen to _them_ if things escalated. Giving them ideas of how much _worse_ it could get, considering what had been disallowed over the years. Hell, she'd had a few ideas herself, but, over the course of the competition, they'd definitely quashed themselves.

“Better, yeah. Still not coming back though.” The judge nodded, and inwardly smiled. They made a point of inviting the potential hotheads. And Elia had had the potential to be one of the hotter ones. Still... It didn't make the competition sit any better with him. He just didn't _like_ this sort of thing.

Well, okay... The cakes were good. There _was_ that.


End file.
